Maybe a Bad Day Can Be a Good Thing
by JessieBess
Summary: A modern Christmas tale. Tom's having a very bad day and is locked out of his flat when his new neighbor Sybil comes to his rescue. But does she rescue him in more ways than he could imagine? Chap 2 is now up - So how did the holidays go?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: The third installment of my December challenge to post a story every week in December. It was a struggle to settle on a story idea and I wasn't sure I'd actually get anything written. I didn't set out to write a modern story but that's what I ended up with. It seems I only write modern ones at the holidays. I hope you like it and I'd appreciate any reviews.**

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When none of the building's tenants answered their buzzers, Tom pounded his fist on the heavy wooden door in frustration. He might have given the door a swift kick also but with one foot already throbbing from the fall he had taken he didn't dare chance injuring the other one. Finally giving up that anyone was home and accepting the fact that he was locked out of his building without his phone or his wallet, he lowered himself to a slouching position on the covered porch with his legs dangling down the steps.

Pondering what few options he might have, Tom sat with his elbows on his knees and bowed head resting in his hands until he realized blood was trickling down his chin from the cuts he had sustained on his hand when he had fallen. Mumbling a few choice curses Tom used his sleeve to wipe his chin. The day had started miserably when he had overslept and had gone downhill from there. He was very late for work, his editor had been brutal and ruthless on the important article he submitted causing Tom to walk out of the office in early afternoon. Arriving home still seething, Tom had hastily thrown off his work clothes and quickly donned his jogging clothes and in his haste had left the flat without his keys, phone or wallet. Thinking a long jog would clear his head, he found instead his mind playing over and over again the meeting with his editor. Thus not really paying attention to his running he had tripped and fallen on the gravel path. It was just one more notch on his lousy day.

The bright December sunshine was fading quickly as the afternoon latened causing a chill that was beginning to penetrate Tom's sweat pants and top. Briefly wondering how long it would take for the chill to become downright freezing, he thought maybe this wretched day would just end by his freezing to death on the front porch of his six unit building.

Wallowing in his misery, Tom wasn't even aware of her presence until he realized the sudden darkness wasn't the onset of sunset but rather the shadow of someone standing in front of him.

"Excuse me but you're blocking the entrance."

Ignoring the hint of annoyance in her voice, relief pored over him as he realized finally someone from the building was home. That his benefactor was the beauty from the first floor brought a smile to Tom's face. She had only moved in a few weeks ago and their only conversations had been brief comments as they passed each other on the way in or out of the building and to his dismay and discomfort he was usually in the company of a date. Struggling to stand up, he reached for the railing to help steady himself.

"Are you alright?" he heard a tinkling of concern replace the annoyance in that husky voice with the oh so posh accent.

"I had a bit of bad luck on my run" he said as he automatically wiped the blood on his cheek. "And then just to make it …" he stumbled "I limped back here and found I've locked myself out."

"You really should take your phone when you run. You'd be surprised how many people find themselves in need-"

Tom tapped his head as he quickly blurted out "Take my phone … wow … I never would have thought of that" cutting her off in midsentence.

She gave him a look that would cut glass before sidestepping around him and unlocking the front door. She was halfway up the stairwell before he hobbled into the foyer.

"Look I'm really sorry. Locking myself out just capped what's been an utterly sh… terrible day."

She paused on the stairs, her back to him. Finally turning her head towards him she stated with no warmth in her voice "I guess you're locked out of your flat too."

He shrugged his shoulders and gave her that lopsided grin that so many women found charming.

"I guess it would be more comfortable waiting in my flat than here on the stairs. You really need to put some ice on that foot."

Ten minutes later he was settled on her comfy sofa, his foot propped up on a matching ottoman and an ice pack hopefully relieving any swelling on his ankle. Even better to Tom's thinking was that she was sitting next to him, so close he could smell a hint of lavender, treating the cuts on his hand. He watched in amazement as her tweezers picked out a few pebbles before gently cleansing the cuts and then wrapping his hand in clean gauze.

"You're very good at this."

She looked up at him and smiled. "Well I am a nurse." Seeing the surprise on his face, she ran her hand down the side of her blue flowered scrubs "certainly you don't think this is some fashion statement."

She chuckled seeing him actually blush. He really was quite handsome she thought.

"Oh so that's why you have the weird hours?"

"Weird hours?" she sounded perplexed.

"I mean I've seen you in the hallway at all hours … well it doesn't seem like you come and go at the same time every day … not that I'm keeping track" Oh geez he sounded like some stalker he thought.

He quickly turned his face away from her and locked his sight on the enormous bare Christmas tree that took up the corner of the large room. Now he knew why there were droppings of pine needles in the hallway and stairs yesterday. "That's quite some tree you have there."

She looked at the tree and smiled, a smile that lit up her face. "It's beautiful isn't it?"

"Well it's nice but don't people usually put lights and ornaments on it?"

"I thought I'd go for a simplistic look this year."

Looking at the tree, utterly perplexed as to why someone would want a bare tree, he crinkled his brows and uttered "oh" before she started laughing.

She stood up and walked over to some tall baskets that were on floor next to the tree. Reaching into one she pulled out a silver snowflake. "I was going to decorate it yesterday but I got called in to do an extra shift."

He looked at her and grinned. "Maybe I could help you while I wait for one of my flat mates to get home."

But Sybil insisted that he had to stay off his foot so he watched her as she set about decorating the tree. In his younger days he, along with his siblings, had helped his Mum decorating the family tree but that was a totally haphazardly affair unlike the one taking place before him now. With Sybil it was an excruciating affair with her agonizing where to place each and every ornament.

"I never realized one had to be so exact in the placement of ornaments" he finally commented as she placed, removed, placed, again removed, and then finally placed a glass bulb not more than two inches from its original setting.

"I suppose you'd just hang them wherever?" She turned to look at him "what if all the red bulbs are together or you have big blank spaces with no bulbs?"

"You stand back, look at it and then move things around a bit. Or just cover the gaps with tinsel." He quickly responded. "It's a Christmas tree not a work of art!"

Undeterred Sybil continued to painstakingly hang each ornament. "So is the tree in your flat full of tinsel?"

"We don't have one. We've gone with the simplistic look this year with just a dancing Santa on the entranceway chest."

Sybil rolled her eyes. "A dancing Santa! That's your idea of holiday decorating?"

"It doesn't just dance, it plays Elvis' Santa Claus is Back in Town" Tom smugly nodded his head. "A real classic."

"Seriously that's your idea of a Christmas classic?"

"I suppose you don't think Home Alone or even better Chevy Chase's Christmas Vacation as Christmas classics?"

Feigning horror, Sybil clutched her stomach and plopped onto a nearby lounge chair. "So no "It's a Wonderful Life" or "White Christmas" or "Miracle of 34th Street"?

"Never seen 'em" Tom proudly responded.

Sybil shifted in the chair, sitting straight up, her face suddenly becoming serious. "You're not really into Christmas are you?"

Tom's uninjured hand ruffled his hair and he looked away from her. "Not really" he mumbled. In truth he had loved Christmas as a child but then his mum had died when he was twelve and it had never been the same. Now his brothers and sisters were scattered around Ireland, England, and Canada. His dad had remarried and had a new family with a wife that never made her stepchildren feel welcomed even at the holiday.

Sybil was aware of the change in the room, the sudden sucking of the gaiety but while she contemplated what to say the doorbell rang.

"Guess that's the pizza we ordered." She hopped up and dashed to the door.

She bustled about setting up folding tray tables for each of them, one by Tom on the sofa and one for her by the lounge chair, and opening a bottle of wine. She had been surprised by their earlier easy camaraderie and she hoped somehow to get that back. Settling into her chair, she sighed with contentment as she took her first bite of the piazza. It was Tom that finally broke the silence in the room.

"Your flat looks lovely. Decorative but still homey. It's hard to tell you've just moved in such a short time ago."

Sybil looked around the large room with its wooden floor, high ceiling and large bay window. "I knew as soon as I saw this flat that it was the flat I wanted."

She smiled as she looked at Tom "so I take it your place is either decorative or homey but not both?"

Tom laughed. "It's a flat with three, sometimes four, guys what do you think?"

"Mismatched sofas, extra large tv?"

Tom raised his eyebrows. "And a wooden chest with a lovely dancing Santa on it."

"That plays that Christmas classic Santa Claus is Back in Town" Sybil laughing added.

"I like your colorful lights on the tree" Tom nodded as he looked at the tree. He wouldn't say it but he was a bit surprised that she didn't have the all white lights that seemed more stylish these days. "Too many go for those all white lights now."

"I know" Sybil replied "the colored lights are just so much more festive I think." Then she chuckled "more classic I think."

"Gingerbread" Tom suddenly blurted causing Sybil to crease her forehead in bafflement.

"That's a classic Christmas smell don't you think?" he replied. "Although I always liked my mum's walnut cake better." He winked at her "I think it's because it was soaked in whiskey which when I was ten was the only alcohol I was allowed."

"Somehow you don't strike me as the type that always paid attention to rules."

Tom raised his chest so he was sitting erect. "I'll have you know my mum always said I was her little angel." He turned towards Sybil with that dopey grin on his face "but then she said that about my brothers and sisters too."

"No one in my family ever called me an angel. I was always the impish one in my family" Sybil replied a bit sheepishly.

"I bet you're the youngest."

Sybil nodded. "Two older sisters."

Tom lifted his chin. "I think I met one of them on the stairs couple of weeks back. Tall, very slender, dark haired."

"Sounds like Mary my oldest sister."

He cocked his eyebrow. "No sense of humor."

"Oh so you're the one!"

Tom chuckled. "It wasn't really me but my mate Brian. So what did she say?

Sybil waved her hand. "We're getting along well so let's not go down that road."

"So no point in inviting her to our Christmas party?"

"You have a Christmas party?"

"You sound so surprised."

"It's just that you … you …" Sybil was flummoxed that Tom and his flat mates would have a Christmas party. "I thought you weren't into Christmas."

"I'm not into decorating and lights and spending money on presents that no one really wants and-" he stopped abruptly. He was sitting in a room that looked lovely with the lighted tree and boughs of holly entwined with red ribbons draped around the bay window. It was a room that brought forth memories of wonderful childhood Christmases. It was a room that brought forth the magic of Christmas that had been missing from his life for so long now.

"We'll be wearing reindeer ears or Santa hats. Brian has a special one that lights up." He looked over at her and grinned "your sister Mary would look especially lovely in that" to which Sybil rolled her eyes.

"Anyway" he continued "we're Irish. It doesn't take much for us to have a party."

"I'm well aware of that" she quipped and he blushed thinking of the couple of times he had seen her in the hallway or stairs with a drink in one hand and usually a woman in the other. He was embarrassed at the thought he may have even invited her to join the party on one particularly drunken occasion.

"Well a hat isn't required but I hope you'll join the festivities." There was no mistaking the longing in his eyes. Tom thought it was the most delightful evening he had had in a long time and he was sorry when his flat mate JC banged on the door to let Tom know he was home.

At the doorway Tom paused and looked back at Sybil. "Do you have a free evening coming up? I thought maybe you could show me your favorite London light displays."

 **If you don't know the Elvis' Santa Claus is Back in Town I'd suggest you listen to it on youtube. My other stories for December are A Christmas Story of Robert and His Two Sybils and a new chapter to The Crawley Girls.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I hadn't planned on writing a second chapter but I thought it would be nice to explore how the holidays ended up going for Sybil and Tom. Hope you enjoy this.**

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New Year's Eve

Sometimes things just don't go as planned. His joy at learning that Sybil didn't have a date for New Year's Eve led him to envision the perfect date. Dinner somewhere very nice, maybe a place with a view of the city. A romantic stroll along the Thames before watching the fireworks. Maybe the evening would end with … his visions of the evening abruptly plummeted upon hearing she was working that evening.

She was working till eleven. Maybe he could meet her at the hospital and they could make a dash for a prime viewing spot of the fireworks.

Sometimes things don't go at all as planned. Tom leaned his upper body back against the pillows and ran his unbandaged right hand through his hair. Three days ago the world seemed perfect and then … he wasn't really sure what had happened. One minute he was walking across the street and then he felt a tremendous pain and then he woke up here.

The holiday season had unexpectedly been the best Christmas he had had in such a long time. When he had met Sybil that day he was locked out of the building he hadn't given much thought to the holidays.

He knew that there were many people for whom the holiday season was depressing but he never thought of himself as one of those types. He never felt like he wanted to hide out until the holidays were over or maybe wrap himself in a blanket and sleep until all the festivities were over. No, he happily participated in the office Christmas party and attended parties hosted by friends and co-workers. He and his flat mates traditionally hosted a party which was usually a rather wild affair short on any holiday decorations (other than crazy hats) or traditions while emphasizing the drink and be merry aspect of the season.

He might have had a tinge of sadness watching his flat mates return home for the holidays and realizing he didn't really have a home to return to. All of his flat mates had invited him to their homes but he no longer enjoyed being the outsider at what he considered to be family affairs. The same held true for the invitations to Christmas dinner by a couple of co-workers. There had been a few years when he had girlfriends and would go home with them but this always proved to be a minefield since he was never that serious about any of them and certainly never had any intention of proposing marriage.

He told himself he was lucky he didn't have to agonize over buying presents while trying to overlook that this meant he had no presents to open. His father always sent a check with a sterile card as if he were contributing to a charity rather than his son.

For the big day itself, Tom's plan was to spend it like he had the previous year alone in his flat contentedly reading, binge watching television, and feasting on the food he had stockpiled for the day. At least that had been his plan until he met Sybil. Spending time these past couple of weeks with her gave him a renewed sense of the magic of Christmas and he realized he didn't want to spend the day holed up alone in his flat. His call to his youngest sister Jenny inviting her to come to London was met with pure glee on her part. Although she had plans she'd happily ditch them for coming down to London from Manchester she bubbled. It was Jenny's suggestion that Tom call their brother Kevin who had just moved to Oxford leading to the three Branson siblings living in England spending three days together at Tom's.

Tom tilted his head back and looked up at the ceiling. How quickly things change he thought and all because of a chance meeting outside his flat.

Sybil was shocked that Tom had never ventured around London looking at the Christmas light displays. It wasn't that he hadn't seen any of them because really one could hardly walk around London in December and not see them what with many of the main streets like Oxford Street and Regent Street renowned for their decorations and light displays. Nor could one walk around central London and miss the grand Christmas trees in front of veritable institutions like St. Paul's Cathedral, the Natural History Museum or The Royal Exchange or in many of the squares and markets.

Yet seeing them with Sybil was a whole different experience than passing by a decorated tree on his commute home from work or walking down Regent Street on his way to dinner with friends. One evening had turned into three evenings spend walking around the city admiring the holiday lights and decorations. A Saturday was spend visiting Christmas markets almost making Tom wish he had to buy some presents. Tom had become so enthusiastic that he surprised Sybil with insisting they do the London Eye just to see what lights they could spot from its lofty perches.

If he had to pick a favorite scene or place they had visited though he would choose Covent Gardens if for no reason other than the display this year had a mistletoe theme giving Tom plenty of excuses to kiss Sybil. While the first kiss was a rather chaste peck on the cheek, much like those that had ended their other evenings together, by the third or fourth one it had progressed to … staring up at the ceiling Tom's face broke out in a big smile just thinking of it.

He closed his eyes and for a moment he was back there, at Covent Garden, surrounded by the twinkling lights holding a laughing Sybil in his arms. His blissful thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a now familiar squeaking sound. He didn't need to open his eyes to know that the technician was here to take another round of x-rays of his chest.

After the technician left Tom realized that for the first time in two days he was actually hungry. He rang the call button for the nurse. The stern looking nurse that answered his call didn't seem like the warm and caring angel of mercy he thought nurses should be. His request for something to eat was met with a sigh and a shrug of her shoulders so Tom didn't hold out much hope. Even if the nurse managed to round up something he knew it wouldn't be delectable. It wouldn't be like the roast he had made on Christmas Eve or, he chuckled thinking of Sybil's reaction, his renowned spaghetti and meatballs he had made for Christmas dinner.

Sybil was spending Christmas Eve at her parents' home returning just after noon on Christmas day to work a short shift at the hospital. Before leaving for Yorkshire, Tom invited her to join him and his siblings for Christmas dinner after her shift at the hospital.

" _Who has spaghetti and meatballs for Christmas dinner?" Sybil asked with the tone in her voice indicating Tom was committing heresy._

" _Well I imagine some Italians do" Tom had retorted. "Besides spaghetti and meatballs is one of my signature dishes."_

 _Sybil arched her eyebrow. "You have signature dishes?"_

 _Tom gave her that lopsided grin and ran his hand through his hair. "I'll have you know I'm an excellent cook."_

" _So why haven't I had any of this excellent cooking?"_

" _I was waiting for the right time."_

" _And Christmas day is the right time for spaghetti and meatballs?" Sybil shook her head._

" _Just wait. You'll probably want my recipe but I'll tell you right now it's a family secret but I'll be happy to make some extra that you can freeze for some winter nights when you return home tired from a long shift." Tom started to chuckle. "Yes I can just envision it now you in those scrubs, your feet wrapped in those silly fuzzy socky things, plopped on your sofa happily slurping spaghetti."_

Tom was still thinking about the wonderful time he had had with Jenny and Kevin. Christmas Eve after their delicious roast dinner, the three of them had bundled up and walked around London enjoying the festive lights. They had stopped in at a favorite pub of Tom's to warm up with hot coffee drinks laced with whiskey. They had so much catching up to do they talked far into the night. Christmas day was made even more wonderful when Sybil joined them for dinner.

Tom's reverie was broken by a knock on his room's open door.

"I understand you'd like something to eat" Tom smiled at the sound of Sybil's smooth husky voice.

She walked into the room holding a large bag which she placed on the table at the bottom of Tom's bed. But it wasn't the bag that captured Tom's attention. Sybil's wildly printed scrubs had been exchanged for black leggings and a long soft looking red sweater. Her short hair was brushed back on one side and held with a clip that sparkled in the soft light of the room. She was without a doubt the most beautiful woman he had ever met.

"You look lovely" he said softly as a sudden stabbing gripped him that she was on her way to a party.

"It is New Year's Eve Tom" she gaily responded.

"I'm sure you'll be the most beautiful woman there … that is … wherever you're going."

Sybil looked directly at him and he could feel his face reddening. "Well I had a date or at least an offer to go view the fireworks but my date can't properly cross the street and was hit by a car."

Tom smiled. "Maybe he was thinking about those fireworks. I hear they are the best in the world."

"Well I hope when he's out and about from now on he'll pay more attention to where he's going."

"He will … that is if he gets out of here and doesn't starve to death first."

Sybil laughed as she turned her attention to the bag. "I'm afraid it's rather plain" she said as she pulled a container of soup out of the bag. "It's mostly broth. But I also have scrambled eggs with a bit of spinach in them. The bread is a white Italian loaf but no butter."

"It looks like a feast" he interrupted her.

She fixed him a tray and then moved a chair beside the bed so that she could sit next to him.

"As strange as this may seem it's not my worst New Year's Eve" he managed to say after eating a few bites of the eggs along with a chunk of the bread.

Sybil laughed. "I've had some that I'd rather forget."

"I've had some I can't remember" he retorted.

They spent the next twenty minutes comparing stories.

"I found my date shagging one of the waiters."

"I was all dressed up and my date stood my up."

"My date got so drunk she started stripping."

"My date's ex turned up at the same party and they got into a screaming match."

"I couldn't remember who my date was."

"My date fell asleep"

"I fell asleep"

"Please no more" Tom grinned as he held his hand on his stomach. "It's hurting too much to laugh."

The distant sounds of car horns blaring filled the room.

Sybil looked at her watch. "It's 2018!"

"Happy New Year Tom" she said as she leaned over and softly kissed his lips.

"Happy New Year Sybil" he replied as he reached up and ran his hand down her back. "I think this is my best New Year's Eve."

Sybil smiled at him before turning her attention to the machines at the side of his bed. Noticing her concentration he looked at the machines but had no idea how to decipher the information they proclaimed. "How …" he began "what's … what's my prognosis?"

Sybil reached out and took hold of his hand. "I think you'll probably go home in a day or two although you'll have to take it easy for awhile."

He smiled. "Well there's a nurse that lives downstairs from me. Maybe she'll be able to help me."


End file.
